


Bedtime

by JanetBrown711



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-08 14:33:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14696175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanetBrown711/pseuds/JanetBrown711
Summary: These poor children won't sleep





	1. Chapter 1

“Eat your sandwich,” Donald sighed. A little huffy duckling in sky blue pajamas shook his head furiously. Donald rubbed his eyes and shook his head, “Duford Duck, if you do not eat that sandwich I am taking away your toys.”

“No!” Dewey quacked at his uncle. 

“Then eat,” Donald moved his plate closer to the four year old.

“…no,” Dewey crossed his arms and looked away. 

“I cut it in the shape of a fish, what more of you want?” Donald sighed.

“A cookie!” Dewey smiled. 

“Dewey, we can’t afford cookies right now. Just eat your sandwich, please I’m begging you,” Donald pleaded. Dewey looked at his uncle, at his plate, then at his uncle again. He picked up his sandwich and took a small bite out of it and Donald gave a sigh of relief. His phone buzzed and he walked out of the kitchen. After he left two other little ducklings walked out and sat next to their brother. 

“Sandwich!” The green one grabbed for it but Dewey shook his head.

“My sandwich!” Dewey defended it.

“Nooooo, my sandwich,” Louie grabbed for it again.

“His sandwich,” the red sibling stood in Louie’s way.

“Nooooo! Hungry!” Louie tried to get his brother to move so he could grab it, but was unable. Donald walked back into he kitchen from his call and saw the three brothers fighting. He rubbed his temples and gave a tired sigh.

“Louie, that belongs to your brother, don’t be selfish. You already ate,” Louie hung his head in dramatic defeat and handed it back to Dewey. Then he walked like a zombie over to Donald and leaned on him. Donald patted his nephews head.

“Now, its almost bedtime, so finish up that sandwich so you can all sleep peacefully,” Donald pointed to Dewey, who then proceeded to shove the whole thing in his mouth. Huey gave him a weird look of slight disgust, but also interest, as if he wanted to know how to do that himself.

“Alright, off to bed. I’ll be in your room in a minute,” Donald said and the triplets walked over to their room with their one bed. Dewey got in the middle, with Huey on the left, and Louie on the right. They squirmed around a bit, but quickly found themselves very tired. Just as they were about to close their eyes, Donald peeped in to give them a good night kiss. 

He walked over to the boys bed, leaned over, nd kissed their foreheads as they each said, ‘Goodnight Unca Donald’. He gave them a soft smile and watched as they closed their eyes and drifted to sleep. Then he walked to the door way and said “Goodnight, my boys,” and turned off their lights.


	2. Firgures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louie doesn't want to go back home and sleep

“Let’s get you to bed,” Donald looked at a tired Louie, leaning against the table in the park.

“Noooooooooo. I wanna see more fireworkssss,” it was the 4th of July and they had spent the evening on a picnic, that Louie clearly didn’t want to leave. The other brothers were quick to sleep, but Louie (for the first time ever) was refusing to sleep. 

“C'mon Louie,” Donald walked up and grabbed him.

“ I’m not sleepy!” Louie squirmed in his arms.

“Louie, its an hour past your bedtime. What were you doing that was so important?” Donald starred walking away.

“No!” Louie knocked himself free from his Uncle’s grasp and ran back to the table.

“ Llewellyn Quackmore Duck!!! Get back here!” Donald snapped. The young child froze with one foot on the bench. He slowly reached forward and grabbed something in the dark that Donald couldn’t see.

“Louie…” Donald warned him. The young duck put one the objects in the pocket of his small hoodie pocket, keeping the other in his hand, lowering his head in shame. Donald glanced at the other two sleeping boys in the car, and walked back over to Louie slowly.

“What do you have there?” he whispered quietly. Louie glanced at his Uncle with a scared and unsure look at broke Donald’s heart. He knelled down to his level, “looks like a little… Figurine. Did you make it out of sticks and mud?” Louie nodded.

“Its really good… Did you make it for me?” he asked. Louie shook his head.

“For money,” the duckling said. Donald went silent, glancing at the figure, then at the littlest nephew. 

“For… Money? Louie, where did you get the idea we need money?” He sat on the ground. 

“Food,” Louie shrugged. Donald gave the figure back to Louie and sighed to himself.

“Louie, its not your job to worry sbiut things like that, its mine. Everything’s okay. It’s going to be okay. You don’t need to make things like this,” Donald touched his shoulder and watched him give a slow little nod of defeat. Donald pulled him into a hug, slowly picking him up, and placing him back into his green booster seat next to Dewey and the window, sighing to himself.

The kids were getting clever and curious faster than he could keep up. He needed to find new ways to distract them from the difficulties that they shouldn’t be aware of at such a young age. He needed to suck it up and hide it for their own good. He drove the triplets in silence back to the houseboat, where he picked up Dewey and Louie and carefully placed them in their bed, which took a great amount of skill, and then went back and put Huey to bed as well. 

He sat in his chair by their bed and watched them sleep without worry. It calmed him. He felt his eyes slowly go droopy, and before he knew it, he fell asleep.


	3. Play time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dewey is the toddler that refuses to sleep.

“Time for bed. no ifs, ands, or buts,” Donald yawned.

“No!!!! I wanna playyyy!!!” Dewey whinnied and flailed his small toddler fists.

“With who? Both of your brothers are asleep already,” Donald rubbed his eyes. Dewey looked around, realizing that he actually was alone.

“Me…?” Dewey pointed to himself. Donald groaned.

“Dewey, you need to sleep.”

“No! I wanna play pirate adventure!” Dewey climbed on top of the couch.

“Dewey! Get down from there!” Donald quacked and ran to Dewey.

“No! I’m an adventurerererer!” Dewey pointed to himself proudly and Donald felt something snap.

“No you aren’t! You’re grounded mister!” Donald yelled at the child. Dewey laughed and started running around the around the whole houseboat shouting “ I’m an adventurer” on the top of his lungs. Donald rubbed his eyes and stared running after the wild child. Dewey may have been only a toddler, but he knew how to run.

He chased Dewey around the houseboat for five circles until he realized he wasn’t chasing Dewey anymore and that instead, Dewey wanted to play hide and go seek. Donald groaned.

“Deuford, I don’t have time for this, its bed time, go to bed!” Donald picked up pillows from the floor and looked under couch cushions, “ I’m really losing my patience here!” Donald kept looking. He checked all of the closets but couldn’t find the blue triplet anywhere. He was getting nervous.

Finally, after another 10 minutes, he heard a soft cry on the roof over the helm. He peeped on the roof and saw the blue triplet hugging his knees and crying. Donald climbed himself up there and scooted himself next to him. “What’s wrong Dewey?” Donald spoke in a soft voice.

“I-I can’t f-find Un-unca Donald!” the child sobbed.

“Dewey, I’m right here,” he wrapped his arm around him. Dewey gasped and hugged Donald tightly.

“Donallddddd!!!” the child sobbed. Donald hugged him back with a tired smile.

“Its okay Dewey… I’m right here..” he soothed him.

 

“I-I wanna go to bed,” he sniffled and looked at his uncle.

 

“I thought so. C'mon,” he got himself down from the roof and helped Dewey down. They walked hand in hand back into the triplets room and Donald tucked Dewey into bed. “That’s enough adventuring for now, right?” Donald kissed Dewey’s forehead. The middle child gave no response, already passed out from exhaustion. Donald got up and turned off their light.


	4. Webbigail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After encountering ghosts and monsters in her bed the other night, a four year old Webby is too scared to sleep

“Don’t worry I’ll keep the monsters away,“ Scrooge sat on the edge of the little girl’s bed as she hugged a stuffed doll. 

"Are you sure Mr. McDuck..?” Webbigail looked up at him.

“Why of course Dearie. I’ll stay right here until ye fall asleep. Nothing can get past ol’ Scrooge McDuck, even as old as I am,” the old duck grinned.

“The most brave adventurer of all time!” Webby stood and posed on her bed. Scrooge laughed.

“Calm down there lass, or you’ll never be able to sleep,” Scrooge sat the excitable five year old down. She nodded. 

“S-sorry!” she apologized.

“Ah, its alright,” Scrooge waved it off. Webby got herself under her pink covers and grabbed her feet wiggled them around a bit.

“Well… Uh… While you’re here… Could you tell me a story about one of your adventures again? Doing that would definetly scare any ghosts or monsters nearby or under the bed,” Webby smiled at him. Scrooge laughed.

“Really now? Alright, I suppose I will,” Scrooge scratched his whiskers and thought about what story to tell, there were so many to choose from.

“Have I ever told ye about the one with the Greek Gods?” Scrooge asked the duckling. Webby nodded.

“I love that one! You bested Zeus, the god of thunder himself!!! That’s amazing!” Webby exclaimed. 

“Alright, alright hush. We don’t want yeer grandmother coming in here and making you sleep, now do we?” Scrooge calmed her down again.

“Right, sorry.”

“Alright… So where was I…” Scrooge recalled the events in his mind and nodded as they clicked. 

“Right. I was flying alone to find the ‘fake’ island of Ithaquack with- Del… Alone. I was greeted by statues of people in quote the disturbing poses and i realized that I was dealing with the "mythical” creature, the gorgon. So naturally, as any daring adventurer would, I killed the unkillable beast. The gods and heroes there thanked me alike and I went back in me journey to find the legendary treasure of Troy, which really wasn’t all took hard. I can smell gold from miles away,“ Webby laughed and nodded. He smiled and continued with his story. 

"After that, the gods had come to really enjoy how much I challenged their king. After a bit of convincing, I joined the annual 'Gods and Heroes Sand Castle Contest’ which Zeus himself was enrolled in. It took me quite a bit, but turns out I beat him. Now, I don’t know about you, but I think Posidon had something to do with that. The brothers hate eachother,” Scrooge chuckled to himself. 

“Anyway, Zeus was so angered that he demanded a rematch so I took it. It was quote the easy challenge though. Turns out Zeus is more of a hotshot than anything else. He got so mad I won that he banned me from ever returning again, lest he should get another round of contests or death, but I’ll probably be back one day. Who knows,” Scrooge smiled, remembering the good days. 

“I like that story, Mr. McDuck,” Webby yawned and laid down.

“Me too,” Scrooge got up and pulled the blanket up on her. She closed her eyes so he turned the lights off.

“Goodnight Mr. McDuck. Thanks for scarring them all away,” She said dreamily. Scrooge smiled warmly at her and nodded. 

“Goodnight, Webbigail.”


End file.
